Catching Tweety Bird
by christikat
Summary: Wilson is up early, House isn't amused ...


Wilson is an early bird, rising at the first sunbeam, leaving House alone in a bed too big. Unlike Wilson, House is a night owl and best time of the day to get some sleep is in the early hours of a new day for him.

Right from the beginning of their relationship he overslept while Wilson got up. After a few weeks, he'd wake up but immediately fall back to sleep. A few months later, he had a hard time even falling back to sleep after Wilson scrambled off the bed. A year later he's annoyed. He fucking hates Wilson living the "early bird catches the worm" - adage.

He rolls from his back to his side to glimpse at the alarm-clock and groans when he sees the time. Why this brown-eyed dork has to get up three hours before he actually starts to work is beyond House's understanding. Even Wilson can't need so much time to change into his usual peachy self; although, maybe he does. Last night left him screaming House's name over and over, sweaty and disheveled. An awfully adorable sight in House's book.

Good thing Wilson isn't laying beside him now because he's grinning like a Cheshire cat. No need to explain that he loves Wilson's hair most in its tousled version. In addition to the flushed face, the dilated pupils and being putty in House's hands. House hums low in his throat at this image of Wilson, feeling another body part corresponding enthusiastically to it. It's early; he's awake anyway so it's perfectly normal to clamber out of the bed. He'll search for the source of his alertness and demand some kind of comfort. That's the least Wilson can do for robbing him of his sleep.

Besides, there are no noises to be heard. Wilson should be in the bathroom or in the kitchen and no matter how quiet he tries to be there should be some hushed, audible noises. But there is absolutely _nothing_. Which makes House suspicious; a train of unpleasant thoughts start to roll around in his mind. None of these thoughts have to do anything with him being the tiniest bit insecure or jealous. His penis is withering while his spleen flares up.

_Where the hell is Wilson?_

A mixture of annoyance and uneasiness flutters over House's face before a dark scowl settles on it. Annoyance and uneasiness mingle with anxiety. Something House isn't used to, a feeling he doesn't like at all. They are at home, there's nothing to fear. What could've happen to Wilson anyway? He's probably just on the john reading the newspaper.

There's no evidence that Wilson has been in the bathroom this morning when House inspects it. His fingers are getting cold, sweat forms on his forehead, his heart beats faster and he's gritting his teeth to prevent himself from calling out for Wilson. He's afraid – of what, he doesn't know – but Wilson is not here and he's fucking frightened that something bad has happened. He hears himself starting to pant and chides himself for reacting so strongly and irrational.

It is completely irrational and ridiculous to be freaked out because your lover isn't lying next to you at six o'clock in the morning. Yet, House can't help himself. He's feeling lost and has one of those eye-opening moments. He loves Wilson and the thought of losing him leaves him chilled to the bones. The confession is just in his own mind so, yes, he's deeply scared of losing Wilson.

Feeling scared isn't something House is keen on and that feeling, in combination with the insight of his feelings towards Wilson, are throwing him off track. Since he doesn't like to be thrown off track and now has to fight with too many unnerving feelings, he blames Wilson for his inner turmoil. Another reason to find said man; so that he can take his anger of feeling too much, out on him. This has nothing to do with him being short of panicking because he can't find Wilson.

He's stopped dead in his tracks when he limps from the hallway to the living room. His heart stutters as he sags against a wall. Finally he's able to breathe again; his body trembling from relief. Sunbeams gleam through the windows, setting a surreal lighting in the living room. Center of House's attention lies on the slowly but smoothly moving body of Wilson.

Who is only wearing sweat-pants and naked from the waist up. The sunbeams flutter over his body, accentuating the well-defined planes of his muscles. Wilson's face is relaxed but showing full concentration. He makes some fast pushing moves with his hands then twirls around and gracefully swings them down in front of his belly; every motion seemingly seamless. Slow moves alter with fast kicks and punches and the only outward sign of exercising is the light glittering film of sweat on his chest and back. Wilson's breathing is fully controlled as is his balance. Every footstep is set precisely on the floor, the kicks and punches flowing with obvious power.

House is openly gaping and mesmerized by the sight of Wilson's graceful and seamless movements. Every muscle and fiber is visible. House licks his lips hungrily while staring at the lean form of Wilson, looking slender, gracile and almost delicate; the boyish face and floppy hair contributing to the delicate appearance.

House would never admit how much he likes Wilson's body – at least not aloud. That would lead to an irritated Wilson, believing that House regards him as the woman in their relationship. The resultant argument would force House to reassure Wilson of his manhood, which would involve him being very sore and limping more than usual afterwards. To be honest, House likes it much better if Wilson is the sore one… His penis agrees on behalf of this thought with leaking some droplets of precome, moistening his boxers.

House watches Wilson exercising, deciding that it's a form of Tai-Chi. He's almost painfully aroused but can't bring himself to walk further in the living-room, not wanting to disturb Wilson and ending the show. Instead he slips one hand into his boxers and gives his erection a few strokes. It feels hot and heavy in his hand and his balls already begin to tighten. There's no chance that he won't come in the next minute.

That is when Wilson stops, stretches and shakes his legs and arms indicating that he's finished. House hisses sharply as he pulls his hand out of his boxers and hisses again as he starts to walk with his raging hard-on.

Wilson turns around and is startled somewhat at discovering House. The inevitable blush creeps up his face while he pulls on his T-Shirt. He prepares himself mentally for the teasing which will be setting in right now and puts on his best deadpan face. He frowns at seeing the heavy limping steps of House. He must be in more pain than usual and now he'll be a grouchy bastard 'cause Wilson woke him up early. Wilson sighs inwardly, there vanishes his inner peace! At least he was able to hide it for over a year and … better not admit to House for how long he has hidden this hobby. House doesn't like to be surprised by Wilson or things he does, no matter how harmless those things are. Discovering something new about Wilson annoys the living hell out of House 'cause that reminds him of his lack of omniscience.

Wilson isn't capable of keeping up the deadpan expression. It gives way to concern seeing the obvious pain in House's face. Before he can come up with anything that is not "Are you in pain?" House asks him, "So that's your secret? You're able to deal with me on a daily base because you find your inner balance with doing Tai-Chi?"

Wilson is surprised, that's not the reaction he was expecting. He shrugs with his shoulders and at discovering the more than apparent bulge in House's pajamas he smiles innocently and says, "It's … helpful."

House bridges the remaining space between them, pressing his body up against Wilson's. Who would have thought that an erection could be _that_ painful? House guides Wilson's hands to his crotch, "Want to help _me_?"

"Hm," Wilson cranes his head to one side, faking to contemplate this question, "doing Tai-Chi is … exhausting. Guess, you'll have to do all the work."

As a response House croaks, "That's fine with me."

With this he shoves Wilson against the armchair, pulls the T-Shirt over Wilson's head and hungrily attacks his throat. The good thing is that Wilson is overly responsive to any kind of House's ministrations and changes from being flaccid to fully erect in a matter of a minute. House didn't even need to touch him there; he's just roaming with his hands over Wilson's torso, tracing the outlines of his muscles.

House slides his hands into Wilson's sweatpants where he detects with delight that Wilson didn't bother to put on underwear this morning. Or maybe he simply didn't find it, whatever. He cups the firm globes of Wilson's butt in his hands, squeezes and travels with his fingers to the cleft. It earns him a buck of Wilson's hips against his own, leaving him breathless at the close contact of their erections.

"Shouldn't we transfer this to the bedroom?" Wilson pants in his ear.

House looks up and takes in the sight on display. Wilson looking his most delicious with tousled hair, swollen lips, pupils blown up and a fine flush on his face. Said face changes his expression from utterly aroused to slowly becoming irritated. House shakes his head as an answer, confusing Wilson even more until he rasps, "Turn around."

House smirks at feeling the fine trembles his demand evokes in Wilson. Wilson complies swiftly and turns around and that's when House remembers that an important supply is missing. He groans in pure despair; his dick is pressed up against the crack of Wilson's ass, only thin layers of cotton separate them. Wilson bends over the armchair even more and pats with his hands under the cushions, turning House into a moaning mess due to the sight in front of him. Mysteriously, a small jar of Vaseline gets pressed in his hands; saving him from his own imprudence.

"Might be useful, huh?" comes the smug comment.

"Did you hide it there?" House asks in utter disbelief while he pulls down Wilson's and his own pants.

"Nope, it just occurred to me that it might be lost there from last weekend," Wilson's voice is a tone higher than normal. He's busy with rubbing his ass along House's crotch when House snaps, "Don't move, damn it!"

Wilson stops immediately, looking over his shoulder in bewilderment. House hisses as he slicks himself up. Wilson starts squirming again and House grabs around Wilson's upper body and locks Wilson's hands in front of his belly, effectively immobilizing him. Wilson _whimpers_ at this and House has to think of ugly face deformations to restrain himself from coming.

House is highly turned on by the thought that Wilson likes to be dominated by him. Sure, Wilson knows the ropes in bed but House always suspected that Wilson likes it more if House is in control. A very sane part of Wilson prevented him from yielding full control to House – at least until now.

Although he hasn't much space Wilson rubs his ass along House's erection in small circles and that's when House decides to find proof for his assumption.

"Keep still until I allow you to move," he growls in Wilson's ear, relishing in the feeling of Wilson's body answering with fine tremors. He nibbles and kisses along Wilson's neck, marveling at the whimpering noises coming from Wilson.

"Bend over. But then keep still!" Wilson submits himself immediately, leaving House with a feeling of superiority and power. His penis swells more than should be humanly possible.

Superiority and power are squashed when Wilson pushes back hard, taking House fully in with one swift move. Both men groan; House is panting and desperately trying to sustain control. Wilson isn't helpful with this task at all. He leisurely circles his hips and moans in appreciation.

"Didn't I say something about keeping still?" House asks while gripping Wilson hips who spreads his legs even wider.

"Sorry, didn't hear that. My hearing isn't so good anymore."

"Oh, feeling cheeky, _my dear_?"

House is getting annoyed. First, he had to find out about Wilson's hobby, then his hypothesis about Wilson's secret wish of yielding to him was proven wrong and now that comment! He'd better shut him up and give him a good reminder for the rest of the day. House feels much better as he imagines a limping Wilson in the hospital, staff members glancing at him suspiciously.

House sets a hard and steady pace while thanking his annoyance because it allows him to persist longer. He hits Wilson's special knot, eliciting the first scream of "Oh God!"

The play of Wilson's back muscles and the incoherently babbled things escaping his mouth quickly bring House back to the edge. His leg starts to complain so he thrust even harder, trying to bring Wilson to his climax. Two almost violent thrusts later Wilson's finishes with wailing House's name. House follows Wilson just a moment later, collapsing on top of him.

Unfortunately the leg decides to be a bitch, forcing them to separate. Wilson hisses sharply and winces when he straightens up. He steps out of his sweatpants which are pooled around his ankles, hissing even more. He draws House in a close embrace, taking on some of House's weight to help relieve his bad leg somewhat. Nuzzling his face against House's chest he mumbles, "That was what helps me deal with you on a daily base."

One of House's hands is curled around Wilson's neck in a possessive manner, the other hand rests on his butt as he asks, "You're doing Tai-Chi every morning?"

He holds Wilson's head in place, not wanting him to look at him, to discover how much he was turned on by the sight of Wilson moving seamless and smoothly. Wilson's only chance is to mumble again, "Uh, whenever it is possible."

"Fine, I'll come and watch more often if it gets you so relaxed that you're _that_ horny."

It's a good thing that House presses Wilson's face against his chest because Wilson isn't able to suppress a smug smile playing around the corners of his mouth. No, he didn't trick House into watching him, too many imponderabilities for Wilson's taste. But he sure as hell knows how to play House – at least where sex is concerned. And annoying House with cheeky comments always lead to House fucking him hard which was exactly what he wanted. Okay, maybe he gets a bit too turned on by House going all commando on him but completely yielding to House ... – No, that's something he's still afraid of and therefore he beats his desire into submission every time. The desire is getting stronger though and he was short of giving in only minutes ago.

Eventually his head is released and he leans in to kiss House. "See, being an early bird isn't always that bad."

House's face goes blank as he can't think of a witty reply. Damn, the sex actually shorted out his higher brain functions! A scathing remark could be helpful but at seeing insane trust mingled with insecurity lurking in Wilson's eyes House isn't able to get one single word out. Instead he cups Wilson's face with his hands, kisses him softly on his lips and with that evokes another heavy body-tremble.

"Come on then, Tweety Bird, let's take a shower!"

"But Sylvester you won't bite me, will you?" Wilson bats his eyes innocently at House as the very same deciphers his statement with a confused expression on his face. A grin spreads out across his face when the decipherment is complete. He takes Wilson's hand in his own and Wilson allows himself to be dragged in the direction of the bathroom. Both are chuckling as House states, "I'm more successful than Sylvester. I caught you!"

End


End file.
